Without a Friend
by Emiliana Keladry
Summary: Pre-serum Steve. Bucky takes care of a sick Steve, trying to do his best to help him. A look into Steve's medical history, rheumatic fever. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Without a Friend**

 _Pre-serum Steve. Bucky takes care of a sick Steve, trying to do his best to help him as he gets worse._

By Emiliana Keladry

 **Disclaimer:** Avengers belong to Marvel. I don't own them, I'm just playing with them. :)

 **Author's Note:** Part of this story takes place after Avengers 2 and part of it takes place before Captain America. It could be considered a little AU since I don't know what age Steve's mom died. I'm estimating Steve and Bucky to be around twelve/thirteen years old. I don't have a medical degree, but I've done quite a bit of research on Steve before the serum and hopefully I will do it justice. There's no romance between the characters, so you don't have to worry about that. :) Enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Steve "Captain America" Rogers stretched his left leg out on the couch, letting out a soft groan. He adjusted the pant leg of his sweatpants, making the wound visible. The purple and black bruises around his knee were already fading to green and yellow. In a few hours, it would look better, though the internal pain might linger a little longer. He'd almost lost his knee, having shattered the knee cap fairly severely. With the serum, his body had already begun to heal. But he'd still be out for a few days. At least he wasn't alone in the Avengers facility.

"I made you some tea," Wanda Maximoff said, coming into the living room and handing him a mug. "How's your knee?"

"It's alright." He paused for a moment, examining the extra-large mug. "This mug has my shield on it." Steve grinned at her before taking a sip.

"Mr. Stark bought it for you. I believe he called it a 'get well' present," Vision answered from the kitchen. He finished wiping the dish in his hand and hung up the cloth before coming in to join them. "I do not know how a mug will help you heal."

"Sounds like Tony." Steve laughed, but tried to cover a wince as he moved a little to make himself more comfortable. The air in the room felt a little cool and he shivered once. It was nothing like the drafty Brooklyn apartment he grew up. Tony liked the building cool. After what happened to him in the desert of Afghanistan, Tony hated being hot and Steve didn't blame him. For the same reason, Steve hated ice and being too cold. Normally, it didn't bother him but right now, it felt a little too cold.

Wanda grabbed a blanket from the basket across the room and carried it over. She sat down on the coffee table and looked at his knee. "Are you in pain?" she murmured.

Steve shrugged, thinking of the time he'd been shot three times and put in the hospital after almost drowning. Bucky saved him. "I've had worse."

"I don't want to believe that, but at the same time, I don't doubt you have." Wanda motioned to the blanket in her arms. "May I?"

"Of course. Thanks."

She tossed the blanket over him, keeping her eyes down. Wanda tried to be careful not to touch his knee or tangle his arms in the blanket. There was barely enough fabric to cover all of his muscular form. It was hard to imagine Steve as small or weak. "I didn't think anything could hurt you, Steve."

"I'm not unbreakable." Steve took another tip from the tea, savoring the taste. Wanda made a great cup of tea. "I was breakable as a kid though. Spent a good part of my childhood, sick and looking out windows instead of living life. I don't miss that."

Vision sat up straight. "I have personally seen Captain Roger's medical files and before the serum, he did endure worse, in a time with low medical care, and small chance of survival."

"That's horrible," Wanda whispered. She took the mug from Steve and set it next to her.

Steve shrugged. "Dr. Erskine's serum saved my life. I wouldn't have lived to be very old without the serum. That and my mother was a nurse. She kept me as safe as she could, for as long as she could." He paused, letting the memories of his mother wash over him. "Well, Bucky helped too."

"You had some good caregivers then." Wanda put another pillow behind him and helped Steve lay back a little more.

He let out a sigh. "I still do. Thank you, both of you."

Vision went into the kitchen and came with an ice park, wrapped in a blue towel. He motioned for permission before slipping it under the blanket and putting it on Steve's knee to help him. No medication would stay in his bloodstream long enough. The serum burned it out. Maybe some sleep would help. He let his head list to the side as Wanda ran his fingers through his hair.

* * *

"Shh, just get some rest, sweetie." Sarah Rogers ran her hands through her son's sweaty hair. "You're gonna be okay."

She kissed his forehead. The dim lights in the apartment illuminated the sweat beads on his brow. Steve adjusted his position on the sofa, rolling onto his side a little and keeping one knee bent. The sun peaked a little through the heavy curtain. It wasn't going to last. The weather was supposed to change and rain all day according to the paper. Grey clouds crept in. Steve shifted a little, leaning toward her touch. Sarah had to work a twelve hour shift at the hospital today. But Steve was too sick to leave. He'd picked up something and she didn't want to leave him. Steve had been out with Bucky the day before, getting into some trouble with a freezer truck and hotdogs. He'd complained of a headache that morning, but Sarah hadn't addressed it. She thought he'd be okay. He'd had strep throat twice this year. Sickness flocked around her child like a vulture desiring its kill. Her poor Steve. She dipped the washcloth into the bowl of cool water and dabbed at his cheeks, keeping the sweat from dripping into his eyes and hurting him more.

"I'm fine. You can go, Mom." Steve whispered, opening his watery eyes.

Sarah shook her head. "I can try to find another nurse to cover my shift. I don't have to leave for another… forty minutes."

"Mom." Steve gave her a warm smile. "I'll be okay." It would have been more convincing if he hadn't went into a coughing fit as soon as he said it. His lungs were weak, too weak and it made it worse when he was sick.

"Oh sweetie." Sarah rubbed his back, waiting for it to pass. "That's it. I'm staying home."

"Nope. I already figured things out. You don't have to worry about me." He sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm just gonna sleep for a little bit."

She'd always have to worry about Steve. "Okay sweetie. I'll bring back some more asthma medicine. Just holler if you need me." Sarah went to get changed into her nurse's uniform and moved back into the kitchen. She smiled at her son and tilted her head. He looked so much like her late husband, handsome and incredibly kind. Swallowing a sob, Sarah headed back into the bedroom to get ready.

When she emerged, Steve had fallen into an uneasy sleep. He tossed and turned a little, his breathing wheezy. She really should call the doctor and let him know about Steve's illness, but she had to get to work. It wasn't possible to miss another shift this month or she'd risk her job. Sarah kissed his forehead again.

"I'll see you later. I love you."

"Love you too, Mom."

Sarah stepped out into the rain and almost gasped. Steve's best friend, James "Bucky" Barnes stood on the doorstep, shaking the rain from his hair. He smiled at her. Sarah pulled the door closed a little so not to bother her son.

"Hi Mrs. Rogers," Bucky whispered.

She grinned. "I should've known when Steve said he had things covered. Hi James."

"You can call me Bucky." He stuck his hands in his pockets and bounced on his toes.

"I know. Did you –?" she started to say.

Bucky nodded. "Is he sick?"

She adjusted the bag on her shoulder. "Yeah. Fever, joint pain, and his asthma is flaring up. There's some aspirin in the cabinet if it gets worse, even though it bothers his stomach, and –"

"I can take care of him. Don't worry, Mrs. Rogers."

Sarah touched his arm as she walked past him. "Thanks Bucky. I'll be home as soon as I can."

Bucky stepped into the apartment and pulled the door closed behind him. He'd been there so many times. It was just a one-bedroom with a mattress on the floor the two shared. He knew Steve would be on the couch, always trying to give his mom some space. The room felt cool and was bathed in darkness. He could barely see the outline of his friend on the sofa. Bucky turned on the lamp. "Hey Steve. I guess I'm your nurse today."

"Bucky –" He went into a fit of coughs, unable to finish his thought.

Rushing over to the sofa, Bucky helped Steve sit up. "Okay, take short breaths. Slow and easy." Once the spell seemed to pass, he got a good look at his best friend's pale face. "You look like shit." Bucky picked up a cup of water from beside the sofa and held it to his friend's lips.

"Thanks." Steve took a sip of the water. "Thanks for coming." He lay back and rubbed his chest with his little fist. "Sorry I'm… not gonna be any fun."

"That's okay. I don't mind."

Steve let out a gasp. "You aren't worried that you're… gonna get sick from me?"

"Nah, I'm tough."

"Wish I… was stronger." Steve's eyes fluttered a little bit. "I'm tired."

Bucky put a hand on his knee. "Get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

He didn't answer, but vaguely nodded his head and let his eyes close. Bucky adjusted the blanket over him as he stayed beside Steve to keep an eye on him. Steve didn't stay asleep well. He kept coughing sporadically and whimpering in his sleep. Bucky knew he shouldn't have let Steve ride home in that freezer truck. He couldn't handle the cold, not that the cold of the truck caused him to get sick. It had been worth it to hang out with his best friend though.

The rain poured outside, though small drops of water leaked in the window. It seemed even colder. Steve shivered beneath the blanket, despite his rising temperature. Bucky headed into the bedroom and came back with another blanket. As he started tucking it around Steve, he pulled Steve's oversized t-shirt down to cover him more and noticed something. There was a red rash on the kid's stomach and chest, bright against the color of his skin and raw. Damn. It better not be scarlet fever again. He'd already had that. Steve opened his heavy eyes as Bucky went to get him more water. It wouldn't help if the kid became dehydrated too. Steve only took a few sips before turning his head away.

"You need to drink more, Steve." Bucky didn't lower the glass, hoping he'd listen to him. "How you feeling?"

"I could do this… all day," Steve wheezed. He groaned softly, rubbing his hand against his chest again. "Buck, I don't feel well."

"That's pretty clear. You need anything?" The way Steve kept on hand on his chest, Bucky knew the kid's heart wasn't beating right again. It pained him to see Steve like this.

"No. I'm good," he slurred.

Bucky frowned when Steve's cheeks went pink. He suddenly realized it had nothing to do with the high fever when Steve spoke again.

"Actually, I need to use the bathroom." Steve practically whispered the words and Bucky had to listen really closely.

"No problem." Bucky moved to help Steve sit up all the way. He gently eased his legs over the side of the sofa. "Slow and steady."

Steve cried out in pain as his left leg straightened. His knee had been bent while he laid there. "I'm okay!" he said between gritted teeth. "It's just a cramp."

No way was that just a cramp. Bucky's stomach rolled a little as he tried to keep his expression neutral. He helped Steve stand up as he let out another cry of pain. The walk to the bathroom was agonizing and slow for both of them. Most of Steve's weight rested on Bucky, not that he was heavy at all. The kid needed to eat more, but he never was very hungry. Once they finished in the bathroom, Bucky helped Steve back to the couch and rearranged the blankets over him. A few stray tears ran down Steve's hot cheeks. Bucky brushed them away before he could be embarrassed by them.

"I'm cold," he whispered.

"Let the blankets warm you back up. I'm gonna get something for you to eat."

"Not hungry."

Exactly. It meant that Steve did need something in his body. If he was going to fight this, he needed nutrients to strengthen him. Bucky worked quickly. He warmed up some water and soup. After seeping the tea, he carried both to the living room. Steve had drifted back to sleep. Bucky gently shook his shoulder, trying not to hurt him. The heat of Steve's fever felt like it burned his hand.

"Come on, Stevie. I have some soup for you. It isn't poisonous."

Steve groaned. "I've tasted your cooking before."

"I made some for myself and already ate it. It won't hurt you." Bucky held out the bowl, but Steve didn't move to take it. Instead, Bucky sat down in front of him and lifted the spoon of soup, keeping his hand beneath it so none would drip on him. "Come on."

"Stomach hurts."

Bucky made a face, trying to contain his emotions. "I know it hurts. But you gotta eat something. I have some aspirin for you too, but it won't feel good if you haven't eaten anything."

"I don't need it."

"Geez Steve, you're wheezing and your fever is really high. Every little movement hurts you. I can tell. I know you too well. I can't give you the medicine until you eat something." Bucky held up the spoon again.

Steve made a face, but then opened his mouth and let Bucky feed him. His entire face turned pink beneath the pastiness of his skin. Steve managed to eat most of the soup before turning his head away and signaling that he was done. He took the aspirin with a few sips of the tea that had started to cool while Steve ate. Bucky let him hold the mug and headed over to the heater. It wasn't even on. He gave the thing a couple hits before the heater sputtered and began hissing out warmer air. It'd help for now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

It was late afternoon when Bucky started to panic a little. The rain hadn't stopped falling and it matched his mood. Steve's fever hadn't gone down. Bucky had given him the aspirin, but Steve kept moaning and wouldn't stay asleep. His mom wouldn't be home for another five hours. Sweat had drenched the top of his t-shirt and his hair; the kid looked absolutely miserable. Bucky pulled off the extra blankets, giving him a light sheet in exchange. Even if he thought he was cold, he was definitely too warm.

"Bucky," Steve said with a rasp in his voice.

"I'm right here. What's wrong?" He hated how worried his voice sounded to him. Steve would certainly pick up on it.

"Stomach… really hurts." Steve took a shallow breath. If he started to panic, it would only cause an asthma attack. Bucky had been there for a few, but it always left a sick feeling in his stomach. "Might… throw up."

"You better not. I just shined my shoes this morning," Bucky teased.

It worked, causing Steve to give a small smile. "Liar. You like… to be dirty." He coughed once and rubbed a hand on his chest. "I hate this."

"I know you do." Bucky touched Steve's forehead, feeling the kid shift a little into his touch. Too hot. The fever wouldn't budge. He'd have to try something else.

Bucky headed into the small bathroom and turned on the faucet. It was the only thing he could think of. Steve would protest, but he wouldn't give him an option. The water wasn't exactly warm or cold, but it would hopefully help lower the fever for a little bit. He went back into the living room to see Steve with both arms wrapped around his stomach, making a low moaning noise as he choked back a sob. Bucky managed to grab a bowl from the kitchen and shove it beneath Steve's chin. He threw up the meager meal he'd eaten a few hours before.

"I'm… sorry." Steve panted in between words. He leaned his head back against the couch and let out a shallow breath. It was like the weight of the world was crushing his small shoulders.

"Don't worry 'bout it." Bucky cleaned out the bowl and came back. "I'm gonna help you cool down."

"I'm… okay."

"No you aren't."

Not letting him answer, Bucky carefully started to lift Steve off the couch. It was a little tricky, but his best friend weighed very little. Steve cried out, but didn't say anything. It seemed that words had left him. Bucky took him into the bathroom and stripped his clothing off. He thought about leaving his underwear, but it wasn't like they hadn't changed in the same room before. It was a bit different when Steve was so sick. The rash circled some of his limbs. Bucky didn't think about how the water would feel on the rash as he carefully lowered Steve into the water. A tear ran down Steve's cheek. Bucky quickly wiped it away. His muscles tensed and his breathing increased a little as he settled into the water.

"It's gonna be okay," Bucky lied.

Steve whimpered. "I'm tired." The water splashed a little as he attempted to sit up a little higher in the water.

"Just stay still. We have to get your fever lower."

"I prefer that… beautiful blond dame from… yesterday. She could give me a bath." Steve tried to laugh, but it came out as a gasping wheeze.

Bucky shook his head, using the opportunity to wash Steve's face with the lukewarm water. "Shut up." He used the washcloth to poke Steve's nose. "Dame? You need to talk to girls more. She was pretty though."

"Why… don't I get… any bubbles?" Steve smiled.

"Bubbles are only for good kids who eat all of their lunch." Bucky rolled his eyes. "Maybe next time you can have bubbles."

"I ate some." Steve moved a little, biting back a groan. "I just… didn't keep it down."

"Yeah. That's alright. Is your stomach feeling any better?"

Steve shrugged. "Not really."

He waited a few more minutes to give Steve's body time to cool down. The water seemed to relax his muscles and he looked comfortable. Bucky hated to move him, but he couldn't stay in the water for too long or it would make him feel worse. This had to have lowered his fever some. At least the sweat on his skin was gone. Bucky even took the opportunity to wash the kid's hair, despite his little protests. He might as well get him clean at the same time.

"Okay, Stevie. Let's get you dried off. Maybe if you behave, I'll read you a bedtime story."

"It's not even bedtime yet." His words were slurred.

Bucky drained the water from the tub and grabbed the blue towel hanging on the back of the door. Just a few minutes in the air and Steve started to shiver. The kid couldn't catch a break. Bucky could count every single rib and it bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Once he was better, Bucky was going to make sure he ate some good food. Bucky quickly covered him with the towel and took him to the mattress in the bedroom. He dressed him in clean shorts and a t-shirt, ignoring the red flush of Steve's cheeks.

"I don't care, Steve." Bucky brushed Steve's hair off his forehead, feeling it was a bit cooler than before. "Stay here. I'm gonna get you some more water." Hopefully he could keep some water down.

Steve's eyes closed and he let out a soft, "okay."

Bucky didn't like this at all. Steve making a joke about a girl giving him a bath and being complacent about being treated with kid gloves; it didn't feel right. He splashed water on his own face, trying to clear the image of his best friend's ribs. Steve didn't deserve this. Bucky filled the cup with tap water and headed back to the bedroom. Steve had finally fallen asleep. Stepping closer, he saw sweat running down the side of Steve's forehead. The fever was refusing to go away.

Bucky set the cup of water on the floor next to the mattress. "I'll be right back. I promise. You just rest."

It confirmed his fears more when Steve didn't respond to him. Bucky rushed out of the apartment and down the short flight of stairs to the unit below the Roger's. He knocked on the door. It took a long moment before an older woman with gray hair answered the door. She frowned at him.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Temple, but I need to use the phone." His heart contracted as he thought of Steve alone in the bed. Bucky blinked the raindrops from his eyes. "Please."

"What's the problem?"

"Steve is really sick and I need to get ahold of his mom."

Mrs. Temple pursed her lips. Bucky immediately knew her thoughts on the situation. Steve spent most of his time sick and people believed that those who were weak had no place in the world. He'd seen the signs posted about people being a burden to society. They treated him like he wasn't worthy of a good life because of his illnesses. He'd never be a contributing individual in society according to their stupid posters. That wasn't Steve. Steve would do anything to prove himself. Bucky clenched his fists, digging his fingernails into his palm.

Mrs. Temple finished wiping the glass cup in her hand. "Alright, you can use the phone."

Bucky hurried in before she finished talking. He'd used her phone before and knew where it was. It took a few minutes to get ahold of Sarah Rogers.

"He's getting worse. I can't keep his fever down. There's a rash on his skin and…" Bucky paused, noticing Mrs. Temple leaning in from her chair, trying to hear their conversation. "Every time he moves, he cries out. His breathing isn't right. Steve's agreeing with me and he isn't protesting me taking care of him like he normally does."

Sarah paused. "I shouldn't have left him. It's a slow shift. I think I can get out of here soon. I'll bring some more medicine for him. I'll be there as soon as I can. Thank you, Bucky."

"Just hurry." Bucky hung up the phone and almost crashed into Mrs. Temple. He had to get back to Steve and make sure he was still asleep. "Sorry. Thanks for letting me use the phone."

She sighed. "Just stay there for a moment. I have something for you." Mrs. Temple headed into the kitchen and returned with a plastic bag of ice from her icebox. "To help with his fever. It's at least something."

He smiled and took the offered bag. "Thanks. That'll help."

"Now go. Poor kid shouldn't be left alone if he isn't feeling well." Mrs. Temple gave him a forced smile as she walked him to the door.

It was more than Bucky ever expected from her. He carried the ice back into the apartment. Just as he set it in the kitchen, the sound of retching reached his ears.

"Steve?"

There was no answer other than the same horrible sound again. Bucky ran into the bedroom, finding the blankets ruffled, but no Steve. The small light was on in the bathroom. Steve coughed loudly. Oh Steve. Bucky stepped in and saw his friend kneeling in front of the toilet, clutching the edges as he tried to keep himself upright. Bucky didn't waste time in picking him up and moving him back to the bed. He helped Steve wipe his mouth and take a small sip of water.

"You forgot… to tell me a story." Steve's glassy eyes followed him around the room as he found a different t-shirt.

Bucky sat down on the edge of the mattress, motioning for Steve to lift his arms. He carefully peeled the shirt off of him and put the clean one on. Kid hadn't even realized he threw up a little on his shirt. "No. You just don't remember the story. I told you the one about the kid who lost his stuffed bunny."

He shook his head slowly. "Liar." Steve swallowed and let Bucky help him lay back down. "Did you call my mom?"

There was a small tremble in his voice, but Bucky immediately picked up on it. "Yeah. She's trying to get off work."

"I can… take care of myself."

"No you can't. But that's why I'm here for you." Bucky went into the kitchen and put some of the ice into a smaller bag, while the rest went into their ice box. He wrapped the bag in a towel. Returning to Steve's side, he rested the ice against Steve's forehead. The kid shivered went the ice touched him. "Hey," he kept his voice gentle. "You're warm. I'm just cooling you down." He ran a hand through Steve's hair, getting him to smile. "How about I tell you a different story?"

"Heard the one… about the superhero named Bucky," Steve let out a breathy laugh.

"Dingy." Bucky fluffed his head and moved his hand back to the towel with the ice in it. "I'm gonna tell you a different one."

"But it's my favorite." Steve stuck out his lower lip in a fake pout.

"I know. But I want to tell you the one about this kid from Brooklyn, who went and saved the world." Bucky picked up the tepid cup of water from beside the bed. "As soon as you drink some more water, I'll tell you the story of Super Steve."

"'kay." Steve let Bucky help him take a few sips of the water. He tensed, waiting to see if his stomach would reject it. After a few moments, he lay back against the pillow.

Bucky prayed that Sarah would get home soon. Steve needed her help too. He started telling the story of Super Steve, the kid who saved other kids from bullies and animals from trees. Steve drifted to sleep after a little while, unable to stay awake to hear the ending. A sigh escaped his parted lips. Bucky gently put his hands on the sides of Steve's head and tenderly kissed his best friend's forehead. He had to be okay.

* * *

" _8 o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?"_

" _You know, I still don't know how to dance."_

" _I'll show you how. Just be there."_

" _We'll have the band play something slow. I'd hate to step on your –"_

Steve shot up, disoriented, but fully awake. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dark living room. He'd slept longer on the couch than he meant to. It had to be late evening or early morning. The forgotten ice pack fell onto the floor as Steve put his legs over the side of the couch. He ran his hands over his face. Standing up, he ignored the stiffness in his knee. It felt much better than when he'd went to sleep, but it was still a bit painful. He limped into the kitchen for a glass of water. His eyes caught a light outside in the yard. Someone sat with a candle in front of them. A blanket was wrapped around the person's shoulders, hiding them from him. Steve knew.

He moved slowly, stepping out into the cool night air. Steve plopped down on the grass, being careful not to pull his knee. "Bad dream?"

Wanda nodded. "Almost every night. I see his face. He was smiling at me and laughing."

"Your brother," Steve said matter of factly. "I'm sorry."

She wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Not your fault." Wanda sniffled and turned to look at him. "How's your knee?"

"It's been better, but it's getting there."

They sat in silence for a little while. Steve stared at the flame of the small flickering candle. It must have been to honor Pietro. The kid had died too young. He had so much life to live and so much potential. It had only been a month since his death and it was still very hard on Wanda. Pietro has been her only living family member.

The breeze blew a stay piece of hair across her face as Wanda looked at Steve. "Do you ever dream about your life before… before you woke up?"

Steve looked at his hands. The ghost voice of Peggy's last words to him was clear in his mind. "Of course. When I woke up, everything was different. Everyone I knew was gone. It's normal to have bad dreams."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks. But it gets better. Things changed when I came out of the ice, but I have a family again. My team." Steve put a hand on her shoulder. "Let's head inside. I make a good cup of hot chocolate and we can talk. How does that sound?"

"That sounds nice." Wanda blew out the candle and stood up, brushing leaves off her skirt.

Steve sat for a moment. Wanda put out her hand. He took her offered hand and carefully stood up, being careful not to turn his leg. Wanda reached out, putting part of the blanket around his side against the cool morning air. Steve put his arm around her shoulder as he smiled. Together they limped inside.

* * *

 _There's more to come! I'd love to hear your thoughts._

 _Emma_


	3. Chapter 3

_Please forgive any medical mistakes. I'm not a doctor or nurse! :)_

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

Steve poured the hot chocolate into the Captain America mug, after having washed it first. He kinda liked seeing his shield on the cup. He pushed a plain red mug toward Wanda. She smiled and wrapped her hands around it. Her ring clinked against the mug before she tentatively took a sip of the steaming liquid. He realized she was still dressed in the clothing she'd worn that day; Wanda hadn't even gone to sleep, other than long enough for a nightmare. They both were tired.

"That's delicious. How did Captain America learn to make hot chocolate from scratch? Most people just use the powder packages." Wanda stirred it with the spoon. She smiled at Steve before using her powers to open up the cabinet above the stove and motioned for the bag of marshmallows to fly over to them. They landed with a plop on the counter.

"Nice." He took a few and dropped them into his mug. "You might find this a bit… funny, but after I woke up and things were so different, I realized that I was lacking a few skills." Steve hid his smile behind the mug before he said the next words. "I took a cooking class."

Wanda laughed. "A cooking class?"

Steve stirred his hot chocolate, dunking each of the marshmallows. "I learned a lot. After class one night, I stayed and asked the teacher if she could teach me to make hot chocolate. My mom made it for me a few times when I was a kid. The powder stuff just didn't taste right to me."

"Well, I'm glad you learned." She tossed a few more marshmallows into her mug. "Can I ask a personal question?" Wanda gauged his expression.

"Sure." Steve took another sip from his mug. "What do you want to know?"

"What was the best thing about your mom? I don't remember a lot about my mom. I was ten when she died and we weren't very close."

There was a long pause. Steve let out a deep breath and turned his mug around until he could see the entire shield. "The best thing about my mom was how much she loved me. Even when I was sick, she'd give everything of herself to make me feel better. She was a perfect mom, loving and kind. I'm just glad I had the years with her that I did. I wish I had more time, but she died when I was still young."

"I can see it. I've never met your mom, but I can see how wonderful she was by the way she raised you and the man you turned out to be. Captain America."

"I feel like if she were alive now, she'd have one of those bumper stickers that instead of saying ' _my son is an honor student'_ , hers would say ' _my son is Captain America_.' It'd be great!" Steve laughed, throwing his head back.

"I do not understand the point of bumper stickers." Vision's voice carried into the kitchen.

Wanda gasped softly, turning around. "I'm sorry, Vis. Were we bothering you?"

"No. I was simply coming to see why you were both awake at this hour. I did not mean to startle you."

Wanda shrugged, adjusting the blanket on her shoulders. "It's alright. We couldn't sleep."

"Does ingesting this warm chocolatey liquid and cubes made from spongy confection sugar and gelatin help you sleep?"

They both laughed. Steve tried to cover his laughter with a fake cough, but it didn't matter. It was a bit funny.

Wanda pulled a marshmallow from the package and tossed it at Vision. It bounced off his forehead, leaving him with a surprised look. "They are called marshmallows and they taste very good in hot chocolate."

Vision picked up the marshmallow and set it on the table. "I will take your word for it. I do not sleep either."

"Well, since we're all awake, maybe we could watch a movie," Steve said. "I still haven't seen Titanic. Tony told me I had to add it to the list and I'd like to quickly take it off the list."

"I haven't seen that movie in a long time." Wanda hoped down from her stool. "Let's do it."

"I am acquainted with very few films, but I believe this could be interesting." Vision headed into the living room first and went to the shelf of movies. He picked out Titanic and put it into the Blu-ray player.

Wanda helped him when he couldn't figure out how the disc went in. Steve stayed in the kitchen for a few minutes, cleaning up the hot chocolate mess. Tony had a tendency to call them a biker gang if they left a mess in the pristine, top of the line kitchen. Whatever those fancy words meant. He had just finished when he heard a familiar sound on the roof. Sam Wilson was back. Steve finished with the dishes and headed toward the garage area.

Sam stepped down from the ramp. He'd started removing his wings and put them into the lock-up. He turned around and smiled. "Hey Steve. You're awake at an odd time. How's your knee?"

"Did Wanda tell you?" he asked, limping into the room.

"She texted me to tell me that you were okay, but being a bit stubborn. I asked her what was new." Sam took off his jacket and tossed it in the laundry hamper. "So, how is your knee?"

"It's alright." Steve ran a hand over his chin. "Did you find anything?" he lowered his voice.

Sam nodded. "He was there. For at least a few weeks, but of course, by the time that I got there, Bucky was gone."

Steve turned away, running his hand through his hair. Why couldn't they catch a break? "We'll keep trying."

"I did find something, but I have no idea what it means. I suppose it will mean something to you." He pulled a paper bag out of his backpack. "I'm gonna go shower."

"We're gonna watch Titanic if you want to join us."

"Hell, yes. You can start it without me." Sam patted him on the shoulder before heading toward his room. "I'll be in when I'm done." He paused. "We'll find him. I'm not giving up."

Steve opened the bag. The memories ran over him like water cascading over Niagara Falls as he realized what it was. He pulled out a lime green dinosaur with yellow feet. It was close, but it wasn't the same to the one that Bucky had given him when he was really sick once. He used to love that dinosaur. He tucked it back into the bag. It wasn't time to dwell on the past and he had plans he intended to keep. Steve went back inside, seeing Vision and Wanda waiting on the couch.

"There you are! Sam said he'll join us in a little bit." Wanda picked up the remote and pressed play. "We texted Tony to tell him we were watching his movie choice. Not surprisingly, he was awake. He said we might need to cover your eyes at the love-making scene."

"Doesn't surprise me at all," Steve said. He stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a fresh ice pack before he took a seat on the unoccupied couch. "I'm ready."

Tony hadn't warned them how long the movie was. Steve remembered hearing his mom tell him about the supposedly unsinkable ship that sank and how no one knew where it had gone. She'd been fascinated by the idea of a ship missing beneath the surface. They hadn't found it until many years later. The movie had some… gaps in historical accuracy. As the movie continued, Sam joined them, taking a seat in an empty chair. Wanda resituated herself on the couch, leaning against Vision and using a pillow to soften his side. He tensed up a little, but after a little while Steve saw him relax and pull a blanket over her. She grinned at him. Wanda was asleep before the ship broke in half. Vision ran a hand through her hair and left his arm around her as she slept. It was… very kind. Steve continued watching the movie.

Once it was finished, Sam sniffled and wiped his eyes. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Steve replied, trying to keep from smiling.

"It is entirely possible that both of them should have been able to occupy space on the door and survive," Vision stated. "I find this movie to be highly unrealistic."

"It was missing some facts. Who would keep going below deck if they knew the ship was sinking?" Steve removed the warm ice pack from his knee and stretched it a little.

"Neither of you have a romantic bone in your body!" Sam protested. "I'll tell Tony know you didn't like it." He tried to look nonchalant as he blew his nose. "I'm headed to bed. See you in the morning."

The sun had already started to rise outside, casting a pink and orange glow on the sky. Steve bid Sam good-night. Vision carried Wanda to her room, not waking her as he stood. She snuggled against him. Steve hid his smile. It was like something Bucky would do for him. Actually, it was something Bucky DID do it for him, many times. He really missed him, but the dinosaur showed that Bucky remembered something. It was a start.

* * *

Bucky stayed by the bed. Steve remained silent, dozing occasionally. He began to get restless, his respirations increasing.

"Take a few deep breaths," Bucky said soothingly, adjusting the cool cloth on Steve's flushed face.

He irritably batted it away. "I am… breathing."

"No, you're not breathing right." Bucky replaced the cloth.

"Hurts," Steve whimpered.

"I know it hurts, but you gotta keep fighting."

Steve swallowed as a tear ran down his cheek. His gaze locked with Bucky's. "What if… what if someday I can't fight anymore?"

Bucky let out a heartless laugh. "You're Steve Rogers. You can't give up. Ever."

"I'm always… gonna be sick."

It physically pained Bucky that Steve knew he'd be sick. He knew he wouldn't live a healthy and carefree life. "And I'm always gonna be your best friend, taking care of you and making sure that you stay who you are. You can't give up." Two tears ran down his cheeks simultaneously. He didn't bother to wipe them away. "Steve."

"I know."

"You have to promise me that you'll always fight. Please."

Steve's eyes closed and he took a shaky breath. "I promise, Bucky." He let out a sigh and seemingly fell asleep. But really, he'd fallen unconscious. His breathing continued unevenly and short.

"Steve?" He shook his shoulder a little.

There was a jingle of keys. Bucky scrambled off the floor and ran to the apartment door. Sarah opened the door with a cloth bag in her hand, still dressed in her scrubs with a little blood splattered on one sleeve. Stray pieces of blond hair had fallen from her bun and clung to her face from the rain. Bucky took the bag and helped her inside.

"How's Steve?" she asked, quickly dropping her shoes from her feet.

"He's… bad."

"Okay. I'm gonna shower as quick as possible so I don't have any other germs on me that could make him worse. I have his asthma medicine. Can you administer it?" She spoke quickly as she pulled a box out of the bag and pressed it into his hand.

Bucky's voice trembled. "Yes."

"Okay. I'll be five minutes." Sarah rushed through the bedroom, keeping her eyes from Steve's prone form. Bucky guessed that if she took a look at him, she'd not be able to keep herself from comforting him and exposing him to possibly more sickness.

He found the atomizer and started putting in the medicine. The sound of Steve coughing resounded in the bedroom as the shower water turned off. Bucky heard a sick, sucking sound that made his heart almost stop. Steve was having an asthma attack! He ran into the room, almost tripping on a towel. The kid's blue eyes were wide open and glossy. Panic etched into his features. Bucky rushed back into the kitchen and grabbed the atomizer. He pressed the small mask to Steve's face and squeezed the trigger to release the medicine. At first, it didn't seem to help, but after a few moments, and another puff of medicine, Steve's body relaxed. His breathing changed as his heavy eyes closed. The door to the bathroom flew open and Sarah Rogers hurried to the bedside.

"Steve, sweetie?" Her hands went to his hair and his face.

Steve turned toward her touch and opened his eyes. "Mom?"

"I'm right here. I'm so sorry."

Bucky felt a small warm hand in his and Steve squeezed tightly. "… okay. I'm… with my two favorite people," he whispered.

"I'm gonna help you feel better. Let me get my bag." Sarah left the room for a moment and returned with the bag.

Steve released his hand as Sarah starting checking his temperature and blood pressure. Bucky just needed a minute. He stumbled into the living room and sat down on the couch. The cold in the room pressed in on him. Tears ran down his cheeks as everything sunk in. Steve could've died. As much as he cared for him, there was a chance that they wouldn't be able to help him. He rested his head on his knees and covered his head.

Bucky just needed a minute.

* * *

 _There's more coming! I couldn't resist writing a fun scene with Vision, Wanda, and Sam. We needed a little humor between the hurt/comfort. I'd love to hear your thoughts!_

 _Emma_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you for your reviews! I love hearing from you; it makes me smile. This chapter is a little different. It has a few time switches. You get a glimpse of Present Bucky instead of Steve, Wanda, Vision, and Sam. Also, I did some research and couldn't find much information on Bucky's family in this universe. I did see he was oldest of four kids and worked that into the story.  
_

 _Enjoy! Feel free to drop me a line!_

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

The tears had stopped running down his cheeks, but Bucky found himself too tired to go back into the bedroom and see how Steve was doing. Sarah's voice murmured softly. It took him a moment to realize that she was singing to him. He couldn't catch the words, but it was such a tender moment he felt bad for listening. His mom was usually too busy with the other kids to sing him to sleep and he hadn't needed it since he was little. His two sisters liked singing songs by themselves. Bucky rested his head back on his knees.

"He's asleep." Sarah stepped into the kitchen and washed her hands. When she finished, she sat down next to Bucky on the couch. "Are you alright?" She touched his forehead, getting his attention. "Do you feel sick?"

Her touch was comforting, but he didn't have a fever. That wasn't what was bothering him. The only sickness he felt was that he couldn't make Steve better. "No, I'm fine." Bucky put his head up and forced a firm look on his face.

"Bucky." Sarah took her hand away. "You don't have to be fine. It's okay to be scared."

He shook his head. "What's wrong with him?"

Sarah sighed. "I'm fairly certain that it's rheumatic fever. Due to his poor immune system and the fact that he caught strep throat recently, it fits his symptoms."

"Can you help him?" He quickly wiped away the tear on his cheek.

"I'll do everything I can." Sarah wiped away her own tears. "Why don't you head home and get some sleep? Your parents are probably worried about you."

"I told them that I was gonna be with Steve. I wanna stay." Bucky wasn't going to leave now. He had to make sure that Steve didn't get worse! He couldn't leave him.

Sarah touched his shoulder. "I'm sure you did. But you should go home and get some sleep. I don't want your parents to worry about you."

"They won't."

She hung her head a little. "Okay, but you have to call them. Mrs. Temple downstairs has a phone and she –"

"I know," Bucky interrupted. "That's how I called you earlier. I'll see if she'll let me use the phone again."

Sarah went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out a few oranges and sticking them in a bag. Bucky's forehead wrinkled as he watched her. What? She came back and handed him the bag.

"She loves oranges and bribes. It should convince her to let you use the phone again."

Bucky nodded before hurrying outside and down the stairs. He knocked twice on the door, tapping his feet as he waited. Mrs. Temple opened the door a crack. Bucky lifted the bag and showed it to her. Lightening flashed behind him, startling him a little bit.

"You need to use the phone again." She grinned and took the bag. "Alright, come on."

Bucky hurried around her to the phone.

"How's the little guy doing?" Mrs. Temple put the oranges in her fridge, glancing back at him.

He shook his head. The operator connected him to his house. There were a few minutes before he heard a voice come on the phone. Bucky rolled his eyes at the high pitched female voice that greeted him.

"Laura, I need to talk to Mom." It was his second youngest sister. She shouldn't be answering the phone. "Please, just get Mom."

"You missed dinner. Momma made cookies with chocolate." Her voice muffled through the phone and he imagined her chewing on the end of her braid like normal. To be fair, she was only six. Hopefully she'd grow out of it soon. "I saved you a cookie."

"That's great, but I need to talk to Mom. Can you get the phone to her?" Bucky tapped his fingers impatiently on his leg. "Please." He normally didn't use his manners with her, so she'd get he was serious about talking to their mom.

"Momma and Daddy said you were with Stevie." Her voice softened. "Is he sick?"

Mom's voice interrupted them in the background. "Laura, who are you talking to?"

Good, she'd make Laura give the phone to her. Bucky waited as he heard his mom tell his sister to brush her teeth before bed and quickly.

"Mom," he said.

"James, what's wrong? I thought you were going to be home for dinner."

Bucky fought to keep the emotion out his voice. Now that he was away from Steve for a little bit, the exhaustion was sinking in. He ran a hand over his face. "He's really sick, Mom."

Laura shushed the rest of the family in the background. "Oh sweetie, I'm sorry. Do you want to stay longer with him?"

"Only if it's okay –"

"I know how much Steve means to you. You can stay as long as you need. Just make sure you eat something." She sighed. "I wish there was something I could do to help Steve and Sarah."

Bucky nodded. "There's actually one thing I need help with."

* * *

 _Sweat ran down his brow. Everything spun as he turned his head a little. The sounds of gun fire and yelling came down the hallway. He struggled weakly against the bonds, but it wasn't enough. Whatever drug the guy had given him made him sore and exhausted, like he'd been running a marathon or lifting heavy weights for hours with no break. It kept him down. The drugs made his hands shake too. He flexed his left hand, feeling the bruises and scrapes pull. He'd got a few good hits in when they moved him to another room to do more testing._

 _The yelling increased. He thought he heard someone yell in German to retreat._

 _He let his eyes fall closed and took a shaky breath. His lungs burned. At least two ribs were cracked, if not broken._

 _Someone entered the room. He heard the boots on the floor as they moved in his direction._

 _He didn't even realize that he'd been talking the whole time. His serial number, he'd been saying the words over and over._

" _Bucky?"_

 _His eyes feel like they were weighed down, but they snapped open. He knew that voice. Everything blurred and he blinked to clear his eyes. But it couldn't be him. He was supposed to be home safe in Brooklyn. There was sickness here. Steve couldn't handle it._

" _Oh my god."_

 _The person moved and suddenly he felt the restraints being ripped from the table. One of the pieces of belt clinked on the floor. Bucky looked at the muscular figure and frowned. It couldn't be._

" _It's me. It's Steve."_

 _He knew that face. "Steve." Bucky grabbed his shoulder, trying to have something solid. He couldn't let this be a hallucination. Despite his reservations, Bucky smiled._

 _Steve hauled him to a sitting position. Bucky quickly threw his legs over and stood, almost falling when his legs couldn't take the weight. His best friend steadied him._

 _Steve touched the side of his face. "I thought you were dead." The emotion was raw in his voice._

 _It must've been the drugs. Bucky looked him up and down, realizing first that he had to look up to him. The kid's arms muscles were huge and… he was big. "I thought you were smaller."_

 _There was a brief pause as Steve focused on something. Bucky felt his stomach roll. He winced and tried to remain upright. Steve said something, but he didn't catch it. Each footstep made him feel a little stronger. Most of his weight rested on Steve. Bucky stumbled, but Steve kept moving. What the hell happened to him?_

" _I joined the army."_

 _It took Bucky a moment to realize he'd said his question out loud. Bucky tried to walk himself, pushing Steve's arm away. He swayed, but didn't fall. "Did it hurt?"_

" _A little."_

" _Is it permanent?" The injection spotted itched as Bucky tried to cover it with his sleeve. He didn't want Steve to think he was too weak. The bastard scientist had told him that when he took Bucky away from the others. He'd been hurt and then… he was sick, too weak to work. Zola said he was perfect for the experiment._

" _So far."_

 _What the hell did that German scientist Zola do to him?_

…..

Bucky gasped as he sat up in bed. He immediately stumbled into the small bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. It was just another memory. Another memory from the life he'd had, but couldn't remember. _Steve_. It was the same man who he'd dreamed about a few weeks before when he'd been compelled to buy that green dinosaur. He'd given it to the kid. _Steve Rogers_. He was the same man from the museum. _Captain America_.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror as the water droplets rolled down the smooth surface. His hair hung in front of his eyes. The eyes of a killer. That's all he was. Bucky grabbed the towel and dried his face before throwing it on the floor.

He dropped back onto his mattress. The street noises were loud outside, people yelling in Croatian about lower prices at their stand while car horns went off and in the distance, sirens wailed. The sounds probably triggered his nightmare. Every night presented a different nightmare, whether the same broken memories or new fragments he couldn't make sense of.

" _Bucky? Oh my god."_ Steve's words and the pain in his voice when he found him strapped to the table.

Why did he care so much about this man who he barely remembered?

" _I thought you were dead."_

There was no way he could go back to sleep. He stood up and headed to his clean laundry basket. Bucky pulled out a few things before finding his running shorts. Maybe a run would clear his head. After changing into his running clothes, he pulled out his sweatshirt to cover his arm. The black glove went on last. He wasn't the man in the dreams. He wasn't the same Bucky.

* * *

Once Bucky finished talking to his mom, he hung up the phone. Mrs. Temple sat at the kitchen table in the dim light. She studied him. After a moment, she pointed to the seat across from him. Bucky fell into the chair, not realizing that his legs had been shaking. He needed to get back upstairs to Steve. Yet, he needed another minute before he stepped back into the cold room with his best friend who was deathly ill and in pain.

"What?" Bucky finally spoke.

She rested her chin on one hand. "Did you know I had a daughter?"

"Considering, I've only seen you a few times, no. I didn't know."

"Her name was Rosalie. She was… beautiful and kind." Mrs. Temple stood up and poured the warm water from her teapot. "But Rosalie was much like your friend. From the time of her birth, she was always sick and she bruised easily. I tried everything I could to keep her healthy, but it was never enough. Rosalie died of pneumonia at the age of nine. She had so much life to live, but in this world, she didn't have a chance. It was the hardest thing and worst thing in my life. I'm so sorry about Steve."

"You're wrong." Bucky stood up quickly, knocking over the chair. "Just because your daughter died, doesn't mean that Steve won't survive. He's a fighter. I'm sorry she died, but I'm NOT gonna lose him."

He ran from the apartment, slamming her door behind him. Bucky sat on the top stair and covered his face as he cried. The rain continued to pour, soaking his clothing as he sat there. Rosalie. She'd just been another poor kid with this world unable to help her. He wouldn't let that happen. The rain chilled him to the bone, long after the tears had stopped. Bucky picked himself up and slowly opened the door to the Roger's apartment. Sarah wasn't in the living room anymore. He wondered how long he'd been outside. He wiped the rain from his forehead as he stepped into the bedroom.

Soft light illuminated Sarah's face. Steve trembled beneath the blankets as she tried to calm him. His eyes were parted and he glanced over at Bucky as he came into view.

"Bucky."

Bucky moved to his side as Sarah gave them a little space. Steve's lips were beginning to chap as his body burned him from the inside with the relentless fever. Hopefully his fever would break soon. Sarah wrapped a dry blanket around Bucky and whispered something about making some hot chocolate before going into the kitchen to leave them alone. Bucky knelt beside Steve.

"You… left." Steve's words made his heart painfully contract.

Steve coughed and Bucky had a flash of him gasping to breath. He took Steve's hand. "I'm sorry. I'm not gonna leave you again. I'm always gonna be here for you."

It looked like Steve was going to say something else, but he let out the short breath he was holding. Steve grinned. "Okay."


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks for your kind responses so far! As a warning, the ending of this chapter is a doozy! Let me know what you think at the end!_

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

Steve opened his eyes, blinking in the darkness. He couldn't hear the rain on the window anymore, so the storm must have finally stopped. Someone was sitting next to him. It took him a moment to recognize his mom.

"Hey sweetie. How are you feeling?" Sarah moved closer to him.

Steve's eyebrows furrowed as he realized that she was sitting on the floor instead of the mattress, but he could feel someone next to him. He slowly turned his head. Bucky was still wrapped in a blanket with his hair a matted mess. It almost looked damp. Steve looked back at his mom. Every part of him hurt as he shifted a little. The pain hadn't abated while he slept. It was cool and he shivered. Sweat clung to his body, covering every inch.

She touched his forehead. "I think your fever finally went down. It's still a little high, but much better than before."

"Mom?" he croaked. Steve coughed to clear his throat. The movements made his chest ache. He pressed his hand to his chest as if trying to keep his heart from escaping.

"Are you feeling better?" She used the corner of the sheet to dry his face.

"A little." He tried to sit up, but the pain caused him to flop back.

Sarah helped him shift and tucked a pillow behind his back. "Is that better?"

Steve nodded. Bucky didn't move next to him and he wondered how long he'd been there and if he'd slept at all. He let out a sigh, blowing a stray piece of hair off of his forehead. Steve prayed he hadn't got Bucky sick.

"Is… Bucky okay?"

Sarah tucked the sheet around him. "My sweet boy, always caring about others before himself. He's just tired. He only fell asleep about half an hour ago. Bucky wanted to be awake if you woke up. He's a very loyal friend." She stood up and headed into the kitchen. Sarah returned with a cup of water and some crackers. "Are you hungry?"

He thought about telling her that his stomach still hurt and the idea of putting food in it, made him nauseous, but he couldn't. Sarah smiled. Steve took one cracker from her and started nibbling on it. He wondered how much he'd need to hide in the folds of the sheet. The few crumbs stayed in his stomach. She gave him a small pill to swallow. Aspirin. Steve sipped the water. Sarah set the cup next to him on the floor when he'd drank enough. Bucky moved a little, but didn't wake up. Steve felt his sides ache as he tried to get more comfortable. He focused his attention on his mom to distract himself from the throbbing in his joints. Sarah had her work clothing on.

"Do you have… to go?" he tried to keep the sorrow from his voice. Steve knew she had to work. His medicines weren't cheap and neither was the rent or good food.

"I can stay."

Steve desperately wanted to ask her to stay, but he couldn't. "Bucky is here with me."

"It's a shorter shift today. I'll be back before you know it. Rest and I'll be home soon."

There was a knock on the door. Bucky let out a gasp and rolled off the bed. Steve covered a smile. His best friend got to his feet and mumbled something about getting the door as he hurried toward it. Sarah and Steve exchanged a confused look. What was Bucky doing? Steve heard a soft familiar voice. Bucky's mom. He listened closely. There was a faint sound of her giving him a kiss, probably on his cheek like normal. The door closed. Steve waited a moment before Bucky rounded the corner. He held a brown paper bag in one arm and a colorful wrapped package in the other.

"My mom brought some food, and I have something special for Steve."

Sarah put a hand over her mouth. "She didn't have to do that."

"She wanted to help. There's some juice, bread, fruits, vegetables, and a little meat. It's not a lot, but it'll help for a bit." Bucky grinned.

She took the bag from him and into the kitchen, leaving the two alone. Bucky took the gift over to him and set it down.

"I got you something. Well, I had my mom pick it up for you last week. I saw you eyeing it when we went to the Museum of Natural History." Bucky pushed it closer. "Come on. Open it."

He tenderly pulled at the paper, trying not to tear it. The colors were very pretty blues and green. Steve opened the gift and grinned. Bucky couldn't stop the smile on his own face as Steve hugged the green and yellow dinosaur against himself. He stroked the top of his new toy.

"Bucky, it's perfect."

"It was gonna be a birthday gift, but I wanted to give it to you now. I can find something more awesome for your birthday."

"I love it. Thank you."

Bucky could see the longing in his eyes. He sighed before reaching over and embraced Steve, making sure not to squeeze him too tight. Steve laughed. They jumped a little when Sarah came up behind them, hugging both boys.

"Thank you so much." Sarah let a tear slide down her cheek. "I'll write a thank you for your mom when I get home from work. Really, she's an angel."

"You're welcome."

She ruffled the hair of both boys. "I will see both of you after work. Get some rest."

Sarah kissed both of the kids before planting a soft kiss on the dinosaur's nose. Bucky looked away as Steve held her hand longer than he needed to. He really didn't want his mom to go. His fever had gone down, so things were getting better. He hoped. Steve finished his water, though Bucky noted he didn't eat any of the crackers. Sarah must have given him more aspirin since he started putting his arm around his stomach like it was cramping. He held the dinosaur in one arm and the other was around his middle. Bucky laid down next to him on the mattress, feeling completely exhausted. Hopefully Sarah wouldn't be long.

* * *

"Bucky, down!" Steve shouted as the bullets flew around him. He blocked with his shield, holding it up to protect him and his best friend.

The rest of the Howling Commandos worked around them. Another soldier fired his weapon at Bucky. Steve threw his shield, taking out the guy. As he turned, hot metal tore through his flesh, entering beneath his ribs and causing damage as it dug in deeper. The second round went in a bit lower than the first. Steve pressed his hand against one of the wounds and quickly regretted it. The pain throbbed, but he continued fighting. The mission came first. This Hydra encampment had to be taken down. They were getting closer to the Schmidt every time they did and closer to the end of the war. Steve ignored the blood on his glove as he fought.

When the battle finished, Steve relaxed his shoulders. He turned his attention to the wounded, but not himself.

Bucky wiped dirt from his forehead as he walked over to him. "Thanks for the warning. You gotta stop saving my life."

"I'm pretty sure I owe you for the number of times you saved me as a kid."

He shrugged. "You're right."

Steve tried to hide a grimace, but he couldn't. He pressed his hand to his side. His fingers came away with more blood. Bucky grabbed his arm and steadied him. He leaned in close to see the two bullet holes in his best friend's side. There was one exit wound on his back, but the other bullet hadn't come through. It was still inside of Steve.

"Steve!" Bucky grabbed his arms and manhandled him across the smoldering compound to a waiting jeep. "What happened?"

"I'm fine. It doesn't even hurt that bad." Steve grunted a little.

Bucky forced him to lay down in the backseat of the vehicle. He forced Steve's uniform out of the way and got a good look at the holes. With each pulse of his heart, more blood seeped from the wound and stained Bucky's hands. He touched the upper one, noting it was the one where the bullet hadn't come out.

"It'll heal. I was shot right after I changed. It hurt, but it healed very quickly." Steve grimaced. "It's gonna be fine."

"You were shot. I can't see that as okay." In his mind, all he could see was the little Steve lying in bed with a fever and in terrible pain. He had to save him

"Bucky, I'm gonna be okay."

The next part of the unit came in. Howard Stark got out of the jeep. Bucky saw him out of the corner of his eye and yelled for him to come over. He'd been there. He had to know something about Steve's serum and how to help him.

"Crap." Howard put a hand over his face and looked away. His skin turned a little pale. "Is there still a bullet inside him?"

Bucky gritted his teeth. "Yes."

"His body heals fast, so we need to get it out."

"Do you have any tweezers or plyers?"

Steve leaned his head back, breathing deeply to keep calm. Howard checked in his tool kit and pulled out some dirty plyers. Bucky dug around in the jeep until he found a bottle of bourbon. He poured the liquid over the end of the plyers to sterilize them. It would have to do.

"This is gonna hurt." Bucky paused, not sure if he could do it.

"I trust you. Always have and always will." Steve smiled before focusing on his breathing. "Do it."

For a brief moment, Bucky felt like throwing up. He wanted to disappear. Steve didn't make a sound as Bucky used the plyers to search the wound for the bullet. Howard stepped away and threw up. Bucky breathed through his nose in an attempt not to get sick himself. Finally, he got it. The plyers grasped the bullet and he slowly removed it. Bucky dropped it as soon as he got it free. He poured more of the alcohol on the wounds to clean them, making sure to get the exit wound too. Steve cried out a little. Bucky applied pressure to stop the bleeding.

"Always being my nurse," Steve murmured. "I'm gonna be okay. I promise. The serum helps me heal really fast."

Bucky realized his hands were shaking. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm not a little kid anymore." Steve stood up and put a hand on Bucky's shoulder. He squeezed it. "Thanks."

* * *

Bucky wasn't sure if it was his asthma or the pain in his joints, but Steve was curled up in a ball on the bed. His breathing came in short puffs. He groaned again. Bucky sat up and looked at him. His eyes were closed, but Bucky knew he wasn't asleep. No way. His fever had shot back up in the last two hours. Bucky stayed close to him, not daring to leave him alone. Steve rolled onto his back. His hand was wrapped in the front of his t-shirt.

"My… chest hurts." Steve whimpered and rubbed his hand against his chest.

"Is it hard to breathe? Do you need some of your asthma medicine?"

Steve shook his head and coughed. "I need… my mom." Tears ran unchecked down his cheeks and he didn't try to brush him away. He wheezed, before it migrated into his vocal cords and it came out as a cry.

Bucky started to say something, but froze as Steve pushed up in the bed and threw up over the side. He cried in pain. A sick sound came from his mouth, half wheezing and gurgling. Something was very wrong. He teetered and almost fell out of the bed. Bucky grabbed him, feeling the heat and sweat beneath his hands. He coughed hard. Bucky saw something in the corner of his mouth. Pink tinged foam. Bucky put his ear to Steve's chest. It sounded like water being shaken, rattling around in his lungs. It had to be Steve's heart. Or something due to the stupid rheumatic fever.

"Bucky?" Steve's eyes rolled back into his head, but didn't close all the way.

No! Bucky promised not to let anything happen to him. "I'm taking you to the hospital now," he said, not caring that Steve didn't respond.

No bothering to clean up the mess, he bundled up Steve in the blanket to keep him covered. Bucky shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed the apartment key from the counter. Steve opened his eyes as more tears fell. He couldn't let him die! There was no time to call for help. Steve's head hung back as he ran down the stairs and toward the nearest bus stop. It didn't matter what anyone said. He was taking Steve to the hospital, to his mom, and he was gonna be okay. He had to be.


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. It was a hard one to write and I just couldn't get it right, but I think I've finally got it. This chapter doesn't switch between time or characters at all. It's just all just Bucky's perspective as he tries to get help for Steve. If anyone of you were wondering, I found a song that went well with the emotions of this chapter as I wrote it. It's called "Pieces" by Red. An emotional and great song._

 _Again, I don't have a medical degree. I've done my research and there really wasn't a lot of medical interventions or technology in the 1920s/1930s. I tried to be correct or vague enough to be close to right._

 _I hope that this chapter was worth the wait. I'd love to hear what you think of it!_

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

Bucky headed toward the bus stop down the block. Steve shivered and moaned. Bucky pulled the thin blanket around him more, making it so he didn't get cold. More foam formed at the corner of Steve's mouth. He didn't have time to wipe it away. The cold bit at him as he ran to the bus stop. Two stiffly dressed business men adjusted their jackets to keep out the brisk breeze while an old woman sat on the bench and glanced over at Bucky. Even though Steve wasn't heavy, carrying him weighed his arms down and made them ache. He plopped down on the bench to wait, praying the bus came soon. The old woman shifted away from him a little. Stupid.

Steve's eyes opened a fraction. "Where…?"

"I'm taking you to the hospital to see your mom. You're gonna be okay." Bucky's voice shook as he tried to reassure him.

He coughed and convulsed in Bucky's arms. Steve gasped, pressing a hand to his heart and weakly spit more pink foam from his mouth.

"Steve, you've gotta hold on."

"That lad needs to be at a hospital right away." The old woman had moved closer to Bucky. She procured a handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to him.

Bucky quickly wiped the foam off. "I can't wait for an ambulance. We're in a crappy neighborhood. We don't take priority for emergencies."

"We'll make sure the driver takes you directly to the hospital."

He had no idea how she was gonna do that. As if summoned, the bus stopped a second later. The two business men hurried on. The elderly woman waited behind Bucky, nudging him forward with her cane. The driver stared at them for a long moment. His hand remained on the rotating door handle.

"Kid, you can't bring him on here like –"

"If we don't get him to a hospital, he is gonna die! Die!" Bucky stood his ground. He adjusted his grip on Steve and carried him up the stairs. He dropped the bus fare into the slot.

Two nuns moved out of the way, giving Bucky a seat. Steve was unconscious, but his breathing had slowed and he wasn't about to give himself an asthma attack. He kept coughing though, soft coughs that produced more pink foam and saliva. Bucky lifted his head as the old woman finished climbing the stairs of the bus. He blinked and almost missed her take her purse and smack the guy's shoulder.

"How dare you! Drive to the hospital as quick as you can. I'll be reporting you for being an awful human being and make sure you are fired! If that boy dies, you'll get worse. Now drive!"

"Yes 'mam."

She smacked him one more time with her purse before taking a seat next to Bucky. The bus surged forward. Steve's eyes opened. The kid couldn't catch a break and just stay unconscious. He tried to move a little, but cried out without thinking. A few people on the bus moved away. The nuns appeared to be praying for him. Heaven knew that Steve needed those prayers more than a general needed war.

A few minutes later, the bus pulled up to the hospital. Bucky let out the breath he'd been holding. The elderly woman touched his arm as he stood up and tried to adjust his grip on Steve, so not to drop him.

"Good luck, boy. I hope your friend makes it. You're a good friend to him." Moisture pooled in her eyes. "I wish you the best."

"Thank you. But he's not just my friend. He's my brother."

Bucky almost stumbled down the stairs of the bus. His arms trembled. He stepped into the hospital and immediately regretted his choice of bringing Steve here. People coughed around him while others cried out in pain and a woman wept softly in the corner of the waiting area. Noise surrounded them. Steve coughed, but kept his eyes closed and reminded Bucky how dire the situation was. He didn't have a choice anymore. Bucky approached the nurse at the desk.

"Please, I need my friend needs to see a doctor," he said softly.

"You'll have to wait, I'm afraid." The nurse took a look at Steve and frowned as more of the pink foam appeared at the corners of his mouth. "I can find a doctor soon."

She started to turn away, but he got her attention. "Wait, can you find Sarah Rogers? This is her son. He needs help." Desperation seeped into his voice, but he didn't care anymore. Steve needed his mom. Saying her name might make a difference in seeing a doctor sooner. It was worth trying.

"I will try."

Bucky sat down in an empty chair and looked at Steve. "It's gonna be okay. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

He wanted Steve to smile and say that he was fine, even if he didn't feel fine. Bucky needed that lie to pass his lips. But instead, he stayed unconscious as wheezing came through his parted mouth. He wasn't okay. Bucky pulled him in closer, to protect him from the others in the hospital. No one was going to hurt him. A baby cried nearby. Louder and louder. A woman argued with a man about something, not caring that everyone could hear their conversation. Bucky squeezed his eyes tight. Steve was gonna be okay. He was gonna be okay.

"Bucky?" Sarah's voice made his eyes pop open.

"Sarah!"

She almost fell to the floor as she knelt in front of them, taking in the sight of her son. Steve's head rolled to the side. Sarah touched his hot head. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she took his pulse, studying the froth on Steve's face. Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't. He couldn't save Steve. Sarah took her limp son into her arms and stood up. His head fell back, scaring Bucky slightly. Bucky stood too, no bothering to wipe his face. Sarah kissed his forehead and went down the hallway, not saying a word to Bucky. He tried to follow her, but a nurse put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. He wasn't allowed. Bucky collapsed into a chair in the lobby as a man coming in the door shouted. He covered his face, letting himself cry.

* * *

It had been three hours. Bucky hadn't heard from Sarah on how Steve was. It was driving him crazy! He paced back and forth across the small waiting area. The rumbling in his stomach bugged him a little. He couldn't remember the last meal he'd had. He'd been too worried about Steve. The nurse at the desk tapped her pen on the counter, seemingly annoyed as Bucky turned and went the other direction. He glanced at the hallway where he'd last seen Steve. What were they doing to him? Bucky put his hands on the counter, getting the attention of the nurse.

"Before you ask, I can't tell you about a patient unless you are family. You'll have to wait for Sarah." Her tone softened. "I'm sorry, kid."

"I know. It's not your fault."

Bucky sat down on his chair again, pulling his knees to his chest. They'd had so much fun the day before Steve got sick. He'd been laughing and he got ketchup on his shirt from his hotdog. He'd been in a bit of a panic to get it clean, saying that Sarah didn't like when he ruined his shirts. Bucky had helped him clean it off with cold water. Then they'd gone back outside, laughing and talking. It had been such an awesome day. They only had so many. He'd always known that Steve wasn't going to live to be fifty years old, healthy and happy. The risks were too great. He wasn't a stupid kid. He knew that Steve had a shortened life because of his health.

The door to the hall opened and a nurse exited, but it wasn't Sarah. Bucky put his head on his knees and covered his face with his arms. Steve could be dying behind that door and he couldn't get to him. He wasn't going to sit here anymore. Bucky let the tears run down his face. He stood up and waited for the nurse at the desk to stare down at her paperwork and turn around.

 _Run_.

Bucky's breath came in low gasps and everything seemed in slow motion. His shoe squeaked against the floor before he started running toward the door where he'd last seen Steve. The nurse yelled something, but the words were lost. His palms slammed against the door. Bucky shoved it open and tried to get his bearings. He couldn't see Steve. A doctor holding a clipboard frowned at him. His mouth moved, but Bucky didn't hear him.

Where was he?

Bucky opened the first door. The long ward was filled with beds, but he couldn't make out Steve's small form in any of the beds. He ran to the next door and opened it as two strong arms wrapped around his waist. Bucky tried to turn and kick.

"No, I'm not gonna leave him!" the desperate words echoed down the hall.

The doctor held tight to Bucky as he dug his fingernails into the man's arm. "Just calm down, kid."

"I have to save him."

The fight evaporated from him and fell to the cold floor. It took him a moment to realize the doctor was guiding him down. Bucky's head gently hit the floor with the doctor's hand behind it. The room was spinning.

"Where's Steve?"

The doctor turned to someone close to him. Bucky couldn't make out who it was. "Please, go get Sarah Rogers." He tried to shrug away from the stranger as the man touched his forehead. "Kid has a fever."

He must have been lying. Bucky didn't feel sick at all. He just needed to make sure that Steve was alive and to stay with him until he was okay. A moment later, a familiar face leaned over him. Sarah ran her fingers through his hair.

"Where's Steve?" Bucky repeated, finally feeling the strain in his throat.

"Oh Bucky." She paused and the silence threatened to rip Bucky's heart apart. "He's stable at the moment. I was just about to come see you. I can take care of him, Dr. Anderson. Thank you."

The doctor nodded and left them alone. Sarah helped Bucky sit up. Bucky didn't waste a moment. He wrapped his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. She returned the embrace and rubbed his back.

"I'm sorry you had to wait for so long," she whispered. Sarah pulled back and got a good luck at his pale face. "You're sick too. Bucky…"

"I'm okay." He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I need to see Steve."

Sarah pursed her lips as she thought. "Okay. Just for a few minutes. Then I'm calling your mom to take you home. As much as I know you want to be around Steve, and even if you got the sore throat from him, you can't be around him if you're sick. I'm sorry."

Bucky felt too awful to even nod. He let Sarah help him to his feet. She kept her arm around him as they moved down the hallway and to a different ward. It was a children's ward. The sight made Bucky's stomach turned. Some of the kids weren't as sick as Steve, at least outwardly. Most of them were sleeping, but a few were crying while nurses spoke softly to them. He didn't want to see this. In the corner by the windows, the only bed with four empty beds beside it had a small blond figure. Steve looked even smaller in the hospital bed. His hair stuck to his forehead from the relentless fever. His skin was deathly pale.

"He's better than when you brought him in. They gave him some medicine for his heart and it's a little more stable. Now we wait." Sarah guided him to the chair beside the bed. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Bucky grabbed Steve's hand, fumbling a little to find it in the folds of the blanket. "I'm right here."

He watched his best friend's chest rise and fall slowly. It proved he was still alive. There was a small hitch now and then, but he was breathing. Steve could fight this. He desperately wished that Steve would wake up and he could promise not to leave, but he didn't stir.

"Bucky, your mom is coming to get you."

"I can't leave him. I promised," he choked out.

Sarah knelt beside Bucky, putting her hand on top of the two boys' clasped hands. "I know. Steve knows too. As soon as he's on the mend, the hospital can send him home and you can come see him."

"What if he doesn't get better?"

The question hung in the air. Neither of them could answer it. Bucky's squeezed Steve's hand one more time. He didn't really remember walking out of the ward or back to the waiting room. Sarah stayed with him as they waited for his mom to come. Bucky found he couldn't focus. It was like he left a part of himself in that hospital bed. He couldn't be whole without him.

Bucky remained unfocused when his mom got there. She held him tight, but he couldn't return it. Sarah promised to call if anything changed and recommended Bucky get some fluids and rest. He probably had Steve's initial sore throat.

The entire drive home, Bucky didn't say anything. He didn't say anything as they walked into the apartment. Little Laura waited inside the door and ran up to him, but Bucky walked past without saying anything. He went right into his bedroom that he shared with his brother, Daniel. At least Daniel wasn't there. His mom followed him. She didn't ask him to talk about what happened as she grabbed his pajamas and made him change. His socks were damp inside his shoes. He didn't remember them getting wet anymore. Bucky felt his mom slide warm and dry socks over his wrinkled feet.

She brought him a glass of water and helped him take a few sips. He didn't complain when she tucked him under the blanket. By the glow of the lamp, Bucky watched her. She promised to come back check on him after she helped Laura with a snack and let him get some sleep.

"Mom?" he whispered.

His mom turned and after seeing his expression, she sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm right here."

"Am I gonna lose him?"

"James, I'm not a doctor. I can't answer that." She ran her thumb across his cheek, catching the fallen tears.

"Is Steve gonna die?"

She kissed his forehead. "I don't know, baby. I don't know."


	7. Chapter 7

_One of my favorite scenes is in this chapter! I don't know why, but there was some trouble with the posting of the last chapter. So, if you didn't see – there is a chapter before this! It might be confusing if you don't read the one previous. Hopefully you like this one! Please review!_

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

Bucky couldn't sleep. Not until he knew how Steve was doing. But they had to wait until Sarah called to give them an update. The waiting was killing him. He'd been staring at the ceiling for so long that he lost track of time. His brother Daniel snored lightly in his bed across the room. Even though Bucky had been awake for so long that the bags under his eyes had bags, he couldn't sleep. Bucky felt awful. When he swallowed, it felt like knives in his throat and even though he was sweating, he wanted to bury in his blanket as he shivered. But he knew Steve must feel worse in the hospital, scared and by himself. He rolled out of bed, giving up on sleep and deciding to sit near the phone. Bucky opened his door and stepped into the living room. There was a dim light in the kitchen. His mom sat on a stool, drinking steaming tea. He tried to hold back a cough, but couldn't. She glanced up at the sound.

"Hey sweetie, what are you doing out of bed?"

"I couldn't sleep." Bucky crawled onto her lap, resting his head against her chest.

"You should be exhausted." His mom put a hand on his forehead. "You're still burning up. How do you feel?"

"Rotten." He swallowed, trying to take a moment to compose himself. Bucky wasn't going to cry again. "Why hasn't Sarah called about Steve?"

His mom ran a hand through his hair. "Sarah is probably getting some sleep, along with Steve. She'll call in the morning. You need to get some rest. You can't get better if you don't sleep."

"I have to be there when he wakes up." His eyes felt so heavy, but he forced them back open. Bucky hadn't realized that they closed. "Steve needs me."

"I know he does. But right now, you need to sleep. You can't go see him until you aren't sick."

Bucky sighed. "Can I just stay up until Sarah calls?"

"Okay. I'll stay awake with you. Let's go into the living room and I can read to you for a little bit."

He sighed as she lifted him up and carried him to the couch. She grabbed a blanket and covered him as he leaned against her side. Bucky shivered. He snuggled against her. Geez, he felt terrible. But Steve must have felt worse. The image of his best friend shaking in his arms wouldn't leave him. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. He watched as she opened the book, pulling out the bookmark he'd make for her out of a newspaper clipping and heavy paper. She always lost them, but he made lots of them. It wasn't nice to doggy-ear the pages of a book.

"Do you remember where we were?" she asked.

Bucky nodded.

She ran her fingers through his hair as she read from the slightly wrinkled page. " _Jasmine spoke only once. She ran with the boy across the street and down to the river, where he left his bag. Neither of them knew what would happen once they got on the boat. But it was better. Better than staying and finding out what happened to Estaline. They had to get away._ "

Having his mom read to him was soothing. Bucky continued to listen to the story about the two kids running away from home. It helped distract him from the growing nausea and headache.

" _The river water bounced them unevenly. Jasmine and Peter held tight to each other, riding the waves. They weren't going to give up until they were free and safe._ "

He didn't even remember the reason why Jasmine and Peter were hiding or about what happened to Estaline. Bucky just needed to close his eyes for a second. He gasped and jerked, opening his eyes again. He couldn't fall asleep! Not until Sarah called.

"Shh… it's okay, sweetie. Just relax." Her hand rubbed circles on his back to calm him. She started to read again.

His head tilted to the side as he listened to the hum of her voice.

* * *

The phone rang on the wall. Bucky felt his stomach drop as his eyes flew open. When had he fallen asleep? He felt like throwing up and it took every remaining bit of strength he had left to not throw up. It had to be Sarah. Who else would be calling at this time of night? His mom slid off the couch and walked into the kitchen. She picked up the phone and spoke softly. Bucky realized she must have thought that he was still asleep.

"Hello? ... Hi. Yes, I understand. I was already awake." There was a long pause as she listened to the person on the phone talking. "I'm glad. He only fell asleep about twenty minutes ago. Poor kid. They really are the same." She paused again. "I'll tell him. I will. Thank you. Talk to you tomorrow. Good night."

It killed Bucky that he could only hear half of the conversation. She could have said that Steve had taken a turn for the worse, though that wasn't as likely since his mom wasn't crying.

"Mom?" he said as soon as she hung up.

"Sweetie, I thought you were still asleep." She sat down beside him, touching his cheek. "You're still so hot. Let me get a cold cloth."

Returning with a wet cold towel, she laid it across his forehead.

"Please, just tell me how Steve is. I know it was Sarah who called." His throat burned and it hurt to even talk.

"Shh, he's alright. The doctor said that his heart is doing better." The wet cloth felt good on his forehead. Bucky leaned more into her touch. "Steve woke up for a little bit and he wanted to make sure you were okay."

He sat up quickly, knocking the cloth off. "Did she tell him that I'm sick?"

"No. I doubt she told him. Steve wouldn't go back to sleep until she said she'd call you."

"How is he?" Bucky coughed, and let her lay the cloth back on his forehead. "Is he gonna be okay?"

The pause made him want to scream. "Steve is still very sick. They are worried about his heart and his breathing. The fever did finally break. But they've got an oxygen tent around him and he's still in some pain. It's gonna be a little while longer before they know how he'll recover. Until then, Sarah ordered you to get some rest and recover. As soon as you feel better, you can see him again."

"Okay." Bucky let his eyes close. Steve was stable for right now. That information would have to hold him for now since he felt rotten and so tired. "Stay with me?"

"I'm right here."

He drifted to sleep as she rubbed his back. As soon as he kicked this stupid fever, he was gonna be there for Steve. He promised.

* * *

The pain had almost disappeared from his knee. It was just a little stiff. Steve pulled his knee close and gently released it. By tomorrow, the rest of the pain would be gone. It would be like it hadn't happened. He looked to his right, seeing the green and yellow dinosaur on his nightstand. The clock read 5:54 am. Steve had actually slept in. If his knee didn't still hurt, he could go for a run. Better to wait a day. Steve picked up the dinosaur and held it in his hands. It didn't look brand new. It looked slightly worn around the middle. He considered the idea of Bucky sleeping with the stuffed animal, but he doubted the fierce Winter Soldier would do it. Still. There was something else about it. Steve flipped it over and discovered a small Velcro pocket in the left back foot.

He sat up and slowly opened it. A small folded paper fell out onto his blanket. Steve set the dinosaur down and unfolded it. It was a ticket stub for the Museum of Natural History.

"Oh Bucky," he whispered. "You remembered."

...

 _Steve bounced up and down anxiously as they waited in line at the Museum of Natural History. He'd begged Bucky to go with him to see the new dinosaur exhibit. Bucky looked over at him. He put a hand on Steve's shoulder, but the smile didn't leave his face._

" _You need to calm down. You're gonna give yourself an asthma attack and we're not gonna get inside to see the dinosaurs." Bucky laughed. "Seriously, relax. They've been dead for a while. They aren't going to escape before we get there."_

 _He nodded. "Sorry! I've just been waiting for so long. Bucky, we're going to see the bones of real dinosaurs that walked the Earth over a million years ago. It's so fascinating!" He took a gasping breath. "Sorry."_

 _The line moved forward a little. It was drizzling slightly. Bucky had a little thought of changing the trip to another day since the kid shouldn't be out in bad weather. But it wasn't pouring. It was only a few drops. Steve promised that he was over his sore throat from a few days before and he seemed pretty healthy, other than the fact that his breathing was off because of his excitement. Steve focused on slowing his breathing as they stepped forward again. They were getting so close. Bucky had five dollars tucked in his pocket to pay for their entrance and in case they wanted to visit the gift shop. Bucky's mom insisted on paying, not letting Sarah use her money on it since the trip was a treat for Steve._

 _Once the tickets were paid for, they stepped into the museum. It was very busy. Bucky and Steve weaved their way through the crowds and to the second floor. Steve grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the first part of the exhibit. It was a dinosaur egg. Unhatched and preserved perfectly by time. Bucky had to admit that it was pretty neat. Steve pulled him into the main room, letting his jaw drop as they viewed the Tyrannosaurus Rex, reaching almost to the ceiling. The magnificence of the creature, long since dead, looming above them as it would have stood when it was alive, it was remarkable._

" _Wow. It's incredible," Steve murmured._

 _Bucky nodded before realizing that Steve hadn't seen him nod. The kid couldn't take his eyes off of the dinosaur. "I agree."_

 _The two spent the rest of the afternoon visiting the rest of the exhibit and a bit of the others. Steve began to tire after a while. He started walking slower and his enthusiasm was a bit muted, along with him taking some uneven breaths, which were clear signs of his weariness. Bucky suggested that they visit the gift shop before they caught the train home. Steve reluctantly agreed._

" _We'll come back another time. "_

 _The gift shop had lots of different things from small candies, postcards, clothing, and lots of other things. Steve bee-lined it right over to the dinosaur items. Bucky watched as he examined each item, but was careful not to touch anything. His hands lingered over a green and yellow t-rex stuffed animal. It was cool looking. Steve stayed there for a little while, before moving on to the other items, but his eyes kept straying back to the dinosaur. Bucky knew what the kid needed for his birthday. He'd have to send his mom for it. There was no way he could sneak it out today._

" _You ready?"_

" _I'm ready. Bucky, thanks for coming with me. I know you'd rather listen to baseball than come to a museum with me."_

 _Bucky put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be. Also, I enjoyed the museum too."_

" _Thanks," Steve whispered, looking down a little._

 _He moved his arm from Steve's shoulder, wrapping around it completely and tugging him alone. "Come on. We better get home before dinner. Daniel said he'd eat all of the pudding for dessert if we were late."_

...

Steve tucked the ticket back into the dinosaur's secret pocket. Gosh, where was Bucky? If he remembered, why didn't he come find him? It wasn't like Steve was hiding. His face was everywhere. Bucky wasn't. There was no way that he was going to give up looking for Bucky, especially now, when he knew that he remembered his old life. He remembered going to the museum and giving Steve the dinosaur. There had to be more memories resurfacing. The longer that Bucky was awake and away from Hydra, Steve suspected more would come back.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Steve?" It was Wanda.

He carefully rolled out of bed and walked to the door, feeling only a slight pull of his knee. Steve opened the door a little. He only had sweat pants on and felt a little self-conscious. "Is something wrong? You're up early."

"Bad dream, but I saw your light on and wondered if you wanted some breakfast. Tony is supposed to call in a little bit too. I thought you'd like to be awake."

"I'll be there in five. Thank you."


End file.
